<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>when the wolfbane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright by raindropwaltz</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354629">when the wolfbane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropwaltz/pseuds/raindropwaltz'>raindropwaltz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vampires, a whole lot of padmé knowing what she wants and obi-wan not knowing how to react At All, anakin &amp; obi are detectives/monsterhunters, author is back at it again with the indulgent AUs, dramatic dialogue to rival shakespeare, if he's not gonna come out of his grave and stop me himself then i cannot be stopped, lots of period-style UST, obi-wan is doing his best, padmé gets agency and Powers™, penny dreadful-style AU, psychic!padmé, slow-burn but it's a good simmer for a bit here, so much sensual hand-touching</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:15:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropwaltz/pseuds/raindropwaltz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Even a man who is pure in heart<br/>And says his prayers by night<br/>May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms<br/>And the autumn moon is bright."</i>
</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>which beast is worse to face: the one without, or the one within?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>yet another ultra indulgent, twitter-spawned au from yours truly. one day i'll be stopped--but apparently not today.<br/>so here's some vaguely victorian gothique™ drama/romance with monsters and a lot of pining.</i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>London by gaslight is a sea of shadows and sound—the light only really permeates the uppermost layer of things, and at eye level and lower, there’s little else than just that: shadows, and sounds.</p>
<p>Two such sounds this night, are master and apprentice at work. Their footfalls are lost in the tide of hundreds, voices mingling with all the rest, and they may as well <em>be</em> any of the rest, really, any of the countless bodies and faces and voices and footsteps around them on this crisp late-spring night, but they are not.<br/>“Where is it we’re headed exactly,” Anakin Skywalker glanced sidelong at his partner, master, and raised an eyebrow as they made their way along the streets, “This new client of yours lives in an awfully <em>nice</em> area…”<br/>“And so she does,” Ben Kenobi gave a polite nod to a strolling couple that passed them and withdrew his pocketwatch with his free hand, “And you and I will be precisely…four minutes late, now, to call upon my ’new client who lives in an awfully nice area'.” Anakin’s gaze shot skyward as they rounded a corner.<br/>“I’ll apologize on our behalf, then,” he sighed, completely unrepentant.<br/>“No, no,” Kenobi tucked his watch away and took his cane up briskly when they stopped at last in front of a well-lit flat. Facing his apprentice, he gave Skywalker one of his infamous Looks, briefly. “That responsibility falls upon me. Just…mind your courtesies here. I’ve no idea what to expect.” Anakin raised an eyebrow.<br/>“You haven’t met her before?” Ben let them in the gate and his tone was as light as Anakin expected,<br/>“Not at all. I was referred, actually—so let’s make this a decent first impression, shall we?”</p>
<p>•</p>
<p>They were led in by a man perhaps older than Kenobi, with an eyepatch over one eye. Anakin rose an eyebrow at this, now, as well.<br/>“My lady has been expecting you. I assumed it would only be you, Mr. Kenobi—“<br/>“My partner goes where I do, largely,” Ben replied pleasantly, “I <em>did</em> think I had mentioned that.” The man at the door simply nodded.<br/>“I see. Come in—my name is Typho.” There was a tree for their hats and coats, should they like, and Ben availed himself to hang his bowler and settle his cane nearby before the man at the door nodded in approval.<br/>“This way, please.”<br/>“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Typho,” Ben kept step and tucked his gloves in his coat pocket, Anakin tailing them both.<br/>“Just Typho suits me fine, Mr. Kenobi,” Typho responded amiably, and Ben nodded.<br/>“And what is your function here?”<br/>“I am my lady’s manservant,” he shrugged, “And security, when necessary.” Ben smiled at this.<br/>“And does she find that necessary often?” <br/>“Perhaps not as often as I do.” Ben’s brow went up.<br/>“Oh?” Typho offered a slight smile back at him now.<br/>“Perhaps you’ll understand better after meeting her.”</p>
<p>•</p>
<p>There was music, drifting from a nearby room as they were ushered down a hall deeper into the home; the flat was cozy inside. The theme was very <em>floral</em>—paintings of greenery and flora on the walls, plants in painted ceramic pots here and there. Even the rugs were patterned with vinelike stitching and the lamps were wrought and painted with enamel flowers. The air smelled sweet and fragrant--tea and perfume, perhaps incense--not overpowering, but very deliberately to set visitors on ease. He detected chamomile, lilac, juniper...but something underlying, headier. Ben thought it all a bit frivolous, but it was still strangely lovely.<br/>“Like a lifeless garden,” Anakin mused at his back, and Kenobi had to agree. Someone was playing the piano ahead of them, and another voice was singing along—they couldn’t make out the words, but the sound of it was almost haltingly pleasant. The music stopped as they neared a bright room ahead, and there was feminine laughter from inside. Typho led the two men to the doorway and cleared his throat, pausing the quiet conversation that had taken up.<br/>“Mr. Kenobi, and his partner Mr. Skywalker, my lady.”</p>
<p>Without question, the woman who rose and faced them with a smile was who they had come to see. She was entirely unexpected, and yet Ben knew there was no mistake immediately.<br/>“Mr. Kenobi,” she greeted as she crossed the room to them, “What perfect timing!”<br/>Behind him, he could hear Anakin make a noise not unlike a snort.<br/>“A pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Amidala.”  She wasn’t alone, but her companion excused herself to go for tea, and Typho followed after. Miss Amidala was nothing that he’d expected. Small and slim, with a pretty heart-shaped face. Her eyes were brown, but the firelight from her hearth nearby painted them honey-gold, and her mouth was small but her lips were full and looked lushly soft. <br/>He mentally chided himself for that.<br/>“Please,” she smiled and her cheeks were rosy as her lips, “Call me Padmé.” Ben smiled back, and whether he offered his hand first or she offered hers, he couldn’t be sure—but his lips brushed her knuckles, and her fingers were soft and warm around his. She wore violet, with black lace beneath; and little amethyst pins spun into braided curls of deep, oakbrown hair caught the light as she moved, glinting here and there. She smelled of flowers. Roses, jasmine, honeysuckle--like she was a flower herself in this garden of a house she kept.<br/>“Padmé, then.” He nodded, and released her hand at last. “My partner, Anakin Skywalker,” he motioned Anakin forward, and the younger man was much more eager than he expected, immediately leaning to kiss her hand. She smiled at him in turn, nodding.<br/>“It’s good to meet you as well, Mr. Skywalker.”<br/>“Anakin, please,” he offered as he straightened again, “And believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”</p>
<p>•</p>
<p>The room was just as decorous as he assumed the rest of her home must be; plants, bookshelves filled with books. A massive, ornate birdcage hung from an intricate stand in one corner, sleeping finches resting within. Wide windows overlooked the streets across from a settling of plush sofas and chairs for guests, upholstered in greens and blues. It was a welcoming room. Ben decided he liked it, and that it suited Padmé.<br/>“I won’t bother with pleasantries, gentlemen,” Padmé began as they all were sat, “I would like for this business to be taken care of as quickly as I am certain you both would as well.” The other woman from before rejoined them with a tea tray, and Padmé smiled. “This is Sabé—one of my closest friends and head of my household.” Sabé offered a smile and a bow of her head, lovely and young as Padmé from the look of it. Ben and Anakin both nodded back as they were handed teacups.<br/>“It’s this business itself that I’m most intrigued by,” Ben started, taking a slow sip of the tea. It was good—sweet, but good.<br/>“Someone is after me,” Padmé stated simply, holding her cup and saucer and shaking her head some as if this were just some mild inconvenience.<br/>“Someone?” Ben quirked a brow, watching her.<br/>“I’m afraid I cannot determine who,” she replied evenly, “They’re out of my reach, somehow.” Anakin’s brow knit slightly.<br/>“Out of your reach? What do you mean?” She turned to gaze at him patiently.<br/>“I’m a psychic,” she set her cup down again, “A medium, generally. But this sort of thing…” her brow knit now as well and she glanced down, “Somehow, I cannot sense who, or what, is behind all of this. It’s as if they’ve hidden themselves from me.” She takes a breath, mulling this over a moment, taking a sip of tea. “And that worries me.”<br/>“Understandably,” Ben offered, still nursing his own cup, “Though I’m sure we’ll be able to suss out the problem quickly enough by physical means.” She cast a look at him just then that made him go a bit still. It was quiet, appraising almost.<br/>“I do hope so, Mr. Kenobi,” she replied, a bit more quietly. “I am a stranger here, but I had hoped to make a home.”<br/>“Then we’ll help you do that,” Anakin volunteered quickly, “It would be a shame for you to leave.” Ben gave him a reproachful look at how forward this was, but Padmé only smiled, and laughed very softly.<br/>“Yes, it would. I think I quite like it here,” her eyes briefly flicked to Ben, but the glance was so fleeting he assumed he imagined it, “There is a great deal of strangeness in this city.” Anakin laughed back.<br/>“You’re right about that, my lady—but we’ll keep you safe from the worst of it.” There was such a note of sincerity on his face and in his voice that made Ben pause at the intensity of it, but he nodded, finally.<br/>“We’ll do what we can, certainly.” Padmé did look at him directly, now.<br/>“Whatever is behind all of this darkness surrounding me is at the center of the darkness descending on this city,” she said firmly, “That much I know absolutely.” He nodded his head in return,<br/>“Then we will do <em>everything</em> we can, in that case.”</p>
<p>•</p>
<p>It was decided that they would return the next evening; she said she sensed something coming, and they would be best to come back. <br/>“Perhaps you’ll find your chance for…physical means…tomorrow,” Padmé said as she was letting them go; Anakin was chatting with Typho as the older man headed for the front door. Ben paused to look back at her, curious.<br/>“Perhaps we will,” he replied slowly, holding her gaze. She tilted her head slightly, looking his face over, and he felt strangely bare.<br/>“You’ve seen strange things, Mr. Kenobi,” she said quietly, still watching him intently, “But I wonder if there are stranger things still for your eyes.”<br/>“From time to time, I find myself hoping there are, Miss Amidala.”<br/>“Padmé,” she corrected softly, “Why do you say that?” He smiled slightly, but it did not reach his eyes.<br/>“Easier to believe I have not seen the worst things this world can muster, sometimes.” She did not smile back.<br/>“I see.” She lifted an open palm, “May I see your hand?” He hesitated. She did smile, now, flashing teeth and laughing softly, light and sweet. "I won't take it off," she teased gently. He raised an eyebrow, offering up his hand all the same.<br/>“Going to read my fortune?” He asked, a bit jokingly, but she took his hand, turned it palm up, and ran light fingertips across his calloused skin. He nearly shivered at the contact, breath hitching in spite of himself.<br/>“<em>Very</em> strange things,” she murmured pensively, “Strange, and sad.” Her fingers curled around his for a moment and he felt a dullness in his chest, even as her eyes met his. “The future is a promise, Mr. Kenobi,” she said gently, “A promise to us of better things.”<br/>“A promise of uncertainty,” he replied dryly, “Vast and changing.” She studied him again in the quiet of the doorway, the both of them half cast in light and shadow.<br/>“And what is it <em>you</em> think your future holds, Mr. Kenobi?”<br/>“My associate asks me similarly quite often, actually,” he chuckled. She was undeterred. <br/>“And what do you tell him?” <br/>“Infinite sadness, my lady.” He smiled, but the little crease in her brow made him feel strangely poor about it.<br/>“How terribly cruel,” she murmured, and he got the sense she understood more than he knew.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>nightcomer.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Next evening found Anakin ready before Ben, pacing the sitting room in front of the fireplace. Their butler Threepio stood nearby watching a bit nervously while their spotted hound Artoo sat near the hearth, head following Anakin’s path around the room. Ben’s brow rose when he walked in on this, still fastening his shirtcuffs.<br/>
“Something troubling you, Anakin?” He leant against the old sofa across from where his partner was pacing and Artoo trotted over to get a welcome pat from him.<br/>
“No, not particularly,” the younger man stopped, finally, and there was something…strangely <em>alight</em> on his face, in his gaze. “I’m ready to start work on the case for Padmé, is all.”<br/>
“<em>Miss Amidala</em>,” Ben corrected him with a look, straightening his vest and shaking his head some in disapproval, “Neither of us needs to be so informal with her.” Anakin made a face, however.<br/>
“She asked you to call her Padmé, and you did,” he pointed out, and Ben just gave him another of his infamous looks.<br/>
“She did indeed—she asked <em>me</em>.” Threepio brought his coat, and he shrugged into it, feeling strangely more pleased about that statement than he ought to have. “Regardless, we’d <em>both</em> be best to maintain respectful boundaries with Miss Amidala, especially given her current predicament.” Anakin’s gaze darkened for a moment but he turned to look at the fire as Ben found the gloves in his pocket and thanked Threepio.<br/>
“Yes…what do you think is ‘after’ her, exactly?” He asked, frowning some. “It implies they don’t want her dead, but that doesn’t exactly make this any better…” Ben nodded, and the two of them headed for the door together.<br/>
“Indeed. I can think of a few things but none of them are certain and none of them are particularly pleasant.” He grimaced slightly, and settled his bowler into place, “But let’s be on our way, shall we? See if our psychic client was right about night guests this evening.”</p><p>•</p><p>She was in green tonight. Green and black, with little bits of white floral embroidery. Her hair was braided in a wreath about her head and pinned with silver flower combs, and Ben was beginning to see the charm of all the florals in her little sphere of living.<br/>
“Mr. Kenobi, Mr. Skywalker—just on time,” she smiled in greeting, and Anakin stepped forward to give her a polite half-bow.<br/>
“Please call me Anakin, my lady; and we’re ready to get started solving this case for you, of course.” She smiled at him, and Ben nodded, clearing his throat some.<br/>
“Yes—has anything…” his eyes roamed the sitting room briefly, “…<em>happened</em>, this evening…?” Padmé shook her head, gesturing for them to come with her—but instead of leading them into the room she instead led them down the hall, back towards the foyer and the staircase.<br/>
“Not yet. After midnight,” she said firmly, “But I’ll take you through the house so that you can familiarize yourselves.”</p><p>Typho was in the foyer waiting with Sabé and another woman who looked strikingly similar to both Sabé and Padmé both. All three bowed when the others entered, and Padmé smiled again.<br/>
“You’ve met Typho and Sabé; this is Dormé.” Dormé gave them a friendly smile, and Ben’s brow went up as a realization dawned upon him, now seeing all three women beside each other.<br/>
“…Now I see. They act as <em>doubles</em>, don’t they?” He was a bit incredulous over this, both the idea of it and the fact that Padmé had something so clever in place.<br/>
“Unfortunately, yes,” Padmé sighed, looking none too thrilled with the fact, but Sabé nodded firmly.<br/>
“We grew up together; her family took us in. Dormé and I would protect Padmé with our lives if we had to.” Dormé nodded beside her.<br/>
“None of us hope it comes to that,” she assured them, “But with three of us, it makes things a bit easier on us, and harder on our enemies.” Ben nodded thoughtfully, and Padmé took a breath.<br/>
“Typho, Sabé, Dormé—show Mr. Skywalker around downstairs for now. I’m taking Mr. Kenobi up to see where things took place last time.” Anakin looked downright disappointed, but let the three lead him away, leaving Padmé and Ben in the foyer. She nodded at the stairs, “If you would follow me, Mr. Kenobi.”</p><p>•</p><p>As they ascended the stairs Ben found it difficult to imagine anything untoward taking place in this flat. More flowers, more plants, the smells of perfume and powder and incense. Padmé herself smelled the same but <em>more</em>, somehow, and he found it was making him gravitate closer to her—closer than he ought to—and he was having to make conscious effort to keep an appropriate space between them. <br/>
“The last of their visits was two weeks ago, nearly to the day,” she was explaining, “though there doesn’t seem to be any sort of routine to it all.”<br/>
“Yet you sense an attack tonight?” His brow knit slightly and she paused them at the top of the stairs, stopping to turn and face him and catch him off guard by how close she suddenly was.<br/>
“I do. There is much I cannot see about this, but some that I <em>can</em>. With my hands tied as they are, I choose to seize at any chance of leverage I might grasp in this situation.” She’d drawn a fist up in front of herself; met his eyes without any hesitation or shyness and he saw ferocity there in her pretty face, like a light in her eyes. He understood it, her determination here. Women like her generally found so little chance for their own power in their lives—or so he had come to understand. Without thinking, he curled a hand around hers.<br/>
“Then I shall help your hands find purchase.” Something in her face softened, and she smiled up at him before turning to lead him down the hall at last.<br/>
He found himself wishing he’d taken his gloves off by now.<br/>
<br/>
“Just through here,” she stayed at his side now, taking them around a corner and into a darker part of the house. Immediately there was a change in the air; something lingering, like ash after a fire. Even the faintest sniff had it filling his nose: there was smoke, and the smell of <em>sage</em> in the air, faint but present. His brow knit as she led him down towards a room near the end of the hall, shadowed and markedly colder. “You feel it, don’t you?” Her voice was quiet, but brought him out of his head. They kept walking, neither of them looking at the other. Somehow the space between them felt contained, their voices quiet and kept within it.<br/>
“What <em>is</em> this?”<br/>
“Darkness,” she said quietly, “what you feel is <em>darkness</em>.” He shuddered a bit at the realization.<br/>
“Two weeks…”<br/>
“It will linger,” she said softly as they stopped in front of the room where it seemed to be concentrated, “until everything is removed, and I can purge it all at last.” He turned to face her, and saw a much more solemn look on her face than he’d seen yet. <br/>
“You’ve waited this long. Why?”<br/>
“So that whoever came to help might see what remains, and understand better what they are up against.” She opened the door, and immediately he understood her severity.</p><p>Inside was cold, and shadowed, and stagnant. There was ash on the floor, and scorchmarks on the wooden posts of the bed. The quilt was burnt and the curtains of the canopy that had been there were ripped and burnt as well. The air smelled of smoke and sulfur, and Ben nearly covered his nose at how strong it all was. Beside him, Padmé continued into the room.<br/>
“What happened here?” He asked incredulously, following her to the bed. She didn’t put her hand on the wooden post, but gestured to one of the burns.<br/>
“Look here,” she nodded, and he did. The burn itself, upon closer inspection, was vaguely hand-shaped—but larger than a human hand should be. Within the blackened burn, however, were strange rune-like marks that looked as if they’d been branded into the wood. His brow furrowed as he leaned closer and looked them over, reaching but not quite touching either.<br/>
“What…is this?” She shook her head.<br/>
“I’m afraid I don’t know. It isn’t any written language I’ve come across, but…” she gestured to the bedding, “anywhere this creature touched, there are the marks.”<br/>
“Creature?” He straightened and looked at her. “Tell me what happened here.” She took a breath, shaking her head slightly and looking at the bed.<br/>
“I was asleep. I woke because of the smell—you can still catch it in the air. Like a fire, like—“<br/>
“Sulfur,” he supplied, frowning. She nodded.<br/>
“Yes. Unnatural. I woke, thinking something was burning, and there it was.” Her eyes were dark, and for the first time, afraid. “It hadn’t made any noise. I don’t know how it got in—the windows were all shut, the doors locked. I tried…to make it <em>leave</em>,” she looked away, and he wondered at this but did not press, “but it barely reacted. Whatever it was, it was…<em>big</em>,” she looked at the strange almost-handprint on the bedpost, “and it was as like it was made of darkness. It looked physical, it looked corporeal, but it felt…strange.” She shook her head, frowning. “It’s difficult to explain. A presence without presence, and it’s <em>eyes</em>…” He offered a nod.<br/>
“You think it was trying to…kidnap you?” he asked, head tilting slightly.<br/>
“I could barely sense anything from it, and yet that was what I felt. Its intent was not to kill, but to <em>retrieve</em>.” She looked at the burnt bedding and the blackened wood, “If it had wanted to kill me, Mr. Kenobi, I imagine I would not be standing here with you right now.” His brow raised slightly.<br/>
“Fair enough. But it left—how?” She was quiet as he wandered over to closer inspect the bedding.<br/>
“Typho came in, fired at it. It hardly seemed to notice; but it was distracted enough for me to move. I found the sage I keep, and—“ He could see the bullet marks in the far wall, and more scorches and branding on the windowframe as he knelt a bit next to the bed. As his hands brushed over the sheets, something rattled to the floor and coated his gloves.<br/>
“Salt,” he rubbed a bit of it between his fingers, and she nodded.<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
“Sage…” he turned to look at her. “You burned it, then?” she shook her head.<br/>
“No—it’s…” she took a moment, just then, and dug into one of the pockets on her bodice, withdrawing a small vial of liquid. “Like tea,” she explained. His brow rose and he glanced at the window. <br/>
“And it made this…creature…leave.” She nodded, holding the vial out to him. <br/>
“It went out the window. Blasted them open without breaking them, like wind.” He took it, inspecting the liquid inside. It was more than sage he smelled, but he could feel the energy from it even in his gloved palm. It made his skin prickle under his clothes. “Keep it,” she offered, closing his fingers around it, “I’ve more.” He met her gaze, and she nodded firmly. “You may need it.” He pocketed the little vial, and nodded back.<br/>
“And you sense this…<em>thing</em>…coming back again, tonight?” She glanced at the window, nodding slightly.<br/>
“I sense something coming. Typho, Sabé, Dormé…they want me to be safe. They encouraged me to seek you out, and your timing seems to coincide with my feeling.” He offered her a small smile.<br/>
“Can you be sure that what you sensed coming wasn’t us, instead?” She did smile back, at this.<br/>
“I can.”<br/>
“How so?”<br/>
“This thing I sense approaching—everything about it is negative.” She held his gaze, and then turned to leave the room, letting him follow. “I have my suspicions that your arrival is very much not.”</p><p>•</p><p>Her new bedroom was at the other end of the house. It was warmer, much more inviting. The smell of sage was still in the air, but so was <em>her</em> smell, the mixture of scents he’d already ascribed to Padmé in the short span of time he’d known her. She led him through the corridor where she, Dormé, and Sabé all three kept rooms, with a washroom just a few moments’ walk from them. <br/>
“I’ve had to relocate, as you can imagine,” she showed him her room, warm and colorful, and very much her. “I would have used this room as a private sitting room, but circumstances as they are…” she shook her head, “It can’t be helped for now.” He peered around at the high ceiling and the hearth in one corner, and smiled.<br/>
“It makes quite a spacious room all the same,” he offered, “though perhaps not so suited for entertaining.” She let out a little laugh and his face colored some.<br/>
“Well, I suppose not for what I’d had in mind, no,” she replied, a playful edge in her voice that made his ears burn a little and had him turning his head to clear his throat a bit.<br/>
“Y-yes, of course not…”<br/>
“Have I offended you, Mr. Kenobi?” She asked, her expression somewhat repentant, “Goodness, that wasn’t my aim at all, I’m sorry.”<br/>
“No, no, not at all,” he shook his head, straightening his coat some, “Think nothing of it. At any rate,” he cleared his throat again, “it <em>is</em> good to know the layout of things. Certainly if we’re maintaining an air of normalcy for our possible guest shortly.” She nodded.<br/>
“Yes—we’ll have the lights out soon. Dormé, Sabé and I will come in to ‘bed down’ for the evening, and Typho will keep watch with you and Mr. Skywalker.” She gave him a pleased look, “Does that plan meet your approval?” He nodded, appeased.<br/>
“Straightforward enough. We’ll post ourselves about the house and keep vigil for the night.” He thought for a moment, “Perhaps we’ll regroup with the others now. I’d like to discuss all of this with Anakin and Typho before the hour gets too late.” Padmé nodded, walking with him back out of her bedroom.<br/>
“Of course.”</p><p>•</p><p>The ladies prepared for bed as they would normally, their gentlemen counterparts downstairs in the sitting room with the lights in the house dimmed. It all seemed as normal as a household like this might when the residents were turning in, and they supposed this might lure their supposed visitors in without hesitation.<br/>
“I’ll take first watch upstairs,” Typho stood, nodding at the other two, “we’ll shift in an hour or so.” Ben nodded.<br/>
“Anakin will stay downstairs, for now.” Anakin raised an eyebrow at him.<br/>
“And you?” Ben stood, taking up his cane.<br/>
“I’m going for a short stroll,” he replied, small quirk of a smile on his face.</p><p>•</p><p>His intent had been to round the block and come back, see if he could see anything from the street and to familiarize himself with the area a bit better. With Anakin and Typho both in the house along with the two other women, Ben felt less concerned--but his stroll turned out to be longer than he’d intended. The nights were getting warmer; summer was coming. He was nearly back to her flat when he took a moment to glance at his watch. Just a bit after midnight. Nothing seemed amiss. He glanced up, eyes almost immediately training on what he was after. The moon hung, hazy with clouds, a pale sickle in the dark sky. Perhaps two weeks until it would be full.<br/>
A noise caught his ear—but nothing was about. An echo. A few blocks down he could make out a carriage rounding the corner, and sighed. Before he could relax, though, something caught his nose.<br/>
Smoke. <br/>
His gaze flicked to Padmé’s flat a few residences down, and something in his blood set him off at a run.</p><p>•</p><p>The smell of sulfur was already in his nose as he threw open the front gate and then rushed through the front door—there was noise upstairs but nowhere near the commotion there would have been if the others had already sensed it.<br/>
“Anakin!” He shouted as he took to the staircase, hearing footsteps converging already, he assumed, because of the noise he’d made upon entering.<br/>
<br/>
The smell was overpowering as he got closer to her room, and he could hear something inside—voices, like so many whispers, and her voice amidst them. Without decorum he flung her door open, cane brandished in one hand.<br/>
“Miss Amidala!” She was on her feet already, in her white nightdress and dressing gown, facing a creature like he’d never seen before. It hulked over her, huge and somehow spindly, bony even without a clear physical frame. It seemed to shift, as if drifting between solid and mist, like a massive, living shadow. Padmé’s hands were outstretched in front of herself and she was being edged back towards the fireplace, but was somehow holding the creature off, a low, steady chant of words falling out of her mouth while the thing advanced on her. Her brow was furrowed and her long hair was in a slowly-unraveling braid, and her eyes seemed to glow gold in the dim light—she looked fearsome, even on the defensive, and Ben felt something in his bones stir and coil, felt it clench his teeth and send him lunging across the room to her aid.<br/>
He swept in front of her as the thing’s claws neared her frame, and held his cane in front of him like a sword. Padmé gasped, stumbling back some, but the creature recoiled all the same. Its face was bizarre, shifting between appearances like it was deciding which to use—but the eyes remained the same. Yellow, burning, and sickly. Ben held an arm out in front of Padmé to keep her behind him, and held his ground, staring the creature down. Her eyes widened.<br/>
“<em>Oak</em>,” she breathed softly.<br/>
“Stay behind me,” he directed her, low and quick, and she rested a hand on his forearm, staying close to his back and keeping her eyes on the monster.</p><p>There was a sound like whispering, like rustling, like wind rushing—the same he’d heard outside the door—and both of them fell silent. The creature seemed to gain a form, suddenly, and it surged forward at them down out of the mass of shadows, now humanoid and in a form like a man with a crown of horns.<br/>
“<em>Kenobi</em>…” The thing with the horns hissed, yellow eyes gaining strange red pupils, like they had just focused on the two of them. Ben’s eyes widened and now it was his turn to recoil slightly, cane still held aloft.<br/>
“It <em>can’t</em> be—“ There was noise in the doorway and the sounds of voices, muffled as if from far away.<br/>
“<em>You cannot protect her, you cannot shield her</em>,” The voice hissed, familiar and writhing with strange Other whispers. The man-who-was-not leered close, marked everywhere with the strange symbols, physical in appearance and overbearing in presence and yet somehow not there at all. As he drew closer, Ben felt as if clawed hands were grasping at him, unseen and sharp. “<em>You will lose, again</em>.” Ben’s every muscle seemed to tense, his hair standing on end—there was a rage in him that he hadn’t felt in years, and Padmé, at his back, leant close to his ear.<br/>
“Shadows tell only lies.” Her hand moved from his arm to his shoulder, and she shut her eyes, pressing close to his back for a moment, but entirely unafraid:</p><p>“I ask not for a shield. I ask for a <em>sword</em>.” </p><p>Padmé stepped back and Ben lunged at the creature with his cane. It roared, and the energy from it shook the windows—Padmé held out a hand and called out something as Ben advanced again, and the shadows around it seemed to flicker, fade, enough for them to see Anakin and Typho stumble in through the doorway, shouting but somehow still muffled. The creature cast them a glance and then whirled around on Ben again, snarling in his face and retaking that strange, twisting, shadowy form.<br/>
“<strong><em>I will take her, Kenobi!</em></strong>” It screamed, and there was a terrible laughter, a rushing sound, an overbearing energy in the room. Padmé was at his side and he had his cane out to guard the both of them—but then all at once the room was empty, save for the two of them, and the others outside the door.</p><p>•</p><p>For a moment everything seemed frozen. For a moment, there was only the smell of smoke and sulfur, the silence in the air, Ben Kenobi and Padmé Amidala.</p><p>His heart was pounding so hard he <em>knew</em> she could feel it, close to his side as she was, but for the moment she was there, right there, that floral, sweet scent that was <em>hers</em> slowly ebbing away at the acrid smell that had overtaken the room before. He could hear her breathing, could feel her heart beating, her hand on his shoulder still. She’d placed herself beside him rather than behind him, in the end, and something about the gesture made his thoughts about her shift just so. He turned his head to look down at her, their eyes meeting for a moment, and then a moment <em>too long</em>, and the world came rushing back to life around them like an angry ocean.</p><p><br/>
Anakin and Typho were immediately inside, Dormé and Sabé behind them and rushing to Padmé right off. She let them move her away from Ben, or perhaps he distanced himself from her first to face Typho and his partner; Typho was scanning the room but Anakin…Anakin had a strange look on his face for a moment, gaze flickering between Ben and their client as her friends fussed over her. Ben shook himself off a bit and let out a pent-up exhale of breath, shaking his head some as he strode over to his partner.<br/>
“Well I certainly have a better idea of just what we’re facing now…” He mused aloud, Typho shutting the window nearby. The coals in the hearth had sprung back to life and a small fire was flickering in Padmé’s fireplace again. Dormé lit a lamp beside the bed as Sabé had Padmé sitting on the edge of her mattress to speak in hushed tones with her.<br/>
“What happened? Why didn’t you call for us?” Anakin demanded, frowning at him, brow knit. Ben gave him a questioning look.<br/>
“I called for you when I came back inside—by the time I was upstairs I thought I’d heard the both of you behind me!“<br/>
“I didn’t hear anything,” Anakin’s brow knit even further, “When we got up here you were already inside with Pa—<em>Miss Amidala</em>.” Ben frowned at this.<br/>
“When that…<em>thing</em>…was in here with us, I could see the two of you and hear you but just barely. I wonder if that had something to do with it.” Typho walked up, shaking his head and looking confused himself.<br/>
“We nearly ran into one another on the second landing,” he nodded at Anakin, “We thought we’d heard someone come in, and we ran to milady’s room, but the door wouldn’t budge.”<br/>
“We thought it was <em>locked</em>,” Anakin added, a strange tone in his voice that Ben decided to leave be for now.<br/>
“When we did get it open it was like the room was pitch black, but we could see movement…” Typho shook his head, “We we shouting for the both of you, Dormé and Sabé both behind us, but you didn’t seem to hear.” Ben ran a hand over his beard, taking a deep breath and thinking about this a moment.<br/>
“I think now that we’ve seen this creature, we have footing to begin our research,” he glanced over at the women, “and perhaps we could all use a bit of sleep.”</p><p>•</p><p>Typho saw them to the door, but Padmé was behind him, her dressing gown haphazardly belted around her, though it had been singed badly on one of her sleeves. Ben and Anakin were nearly down the front steps when she slipped past Typho and stopped on the front step.<br/>
“Mr. Kenobi.” Her voice was quiet, but cut through the night air. Both men stopped, and turned. Padmé stood over the both of them, her hair loosely braided but spilling ringlets around her shoulders and framing her face, and she was <em>radiant</em>. “I have a friend across the city—his library should prove useful.” Her lips curved up into a soft smile, “I’ll send word once I’ve spoken to him.” Ben gave her a bow of his head.<br/>
“Thank you, Miss Amidala; I’m sure it will, should he be willing to allow us access.”<br/>
“He will.” For a moment something hung in the air between them, he on the last step and she there just feet away. It made his heartbeat pick up in a way he wasn’t altogether comfortable with, a way it <em>shouldn’t be</em>, but still he had to wrench himself away.<br/>
“Then we will await your word, Miss Amidala,” he replied, tipping his hat and stepping off of her stoop. “Goodnight, my lady.”<br/>
“And to you both.” She called after, and he forced himself not to look back. “Pleasant dreams, Mr. Kenobi.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>research.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been five days since the incident at Miss Amidala’s residence—Anakin and Ben had taken to their own library in the meantime, while Ben had sent out a handful of letters to contacts of his that might be any help. Things were normal, otherwise; Anakin had been strangely standoffish for a day or so but the mood had passed and Ben had decided to let it go, assuming more than anything that Anakin was irate over not having been in the thick of the action that night.<br/>Normal.<br/>The dreams Ben found himself having, however, were not.<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>The first night, he’d barely remembered any of the dream at all. He’d woken the next day with a head full of thoughts, images, and they’d vanished in moments. He knew, though, that <em>whatever</em> he had dreamed, it had been about Miss Amidala.<br/>Ben had written it off that first night. After the strange events at her home it was no surprise.<br/>But two days later, he dreamed of her again. Nothing he could particularly remember, but the sensation remained so strongly when he woke that he was certain he’d been dreaming of her. The night after, he could recall nothing, but on the night of the fourth day, the dreams were vivid—and this time he remembered them clearly.</p>
<p><em>Memories, at first. The night they met. The first smile she offered—the way her hands felt around his, her fingers tracing his palm. Her laughter in his ears, the suddenness of how close she’d been at the top of the stairs, the feeling of her body pressed against his back and her lips near his ear. </em>“Shadows tell only lies,”<em> she whispered to him, and he could smell her even in the dream, feel the warmth from her skin and her soft breath against his neck, no longer distracted in the dream space. Her hands on his shoulder, his arm, a strange energy where they connected. And then he was holding her at his side, and there were shadows around them but his eyes were only for her, and hers for him. </em>“Will you be my sword?”<em> she asked him, soft but full of strength, her fingers closing around the hand that grasped his cane. He couldn’t look away, felt their bodies press together and hardly realized he was lowering his head to hers. His arm was around her waist and there was a blade in his hand now, gleaming like moonlight, and he was ready to kiss her, wanted to kiss her—but the moment their lips should have connected his teeth had grown into fangs, and sunk into her pale throat.</em></p>
<p>He woke with a jolt, sitting upright, gasping hard and almost choking on his own breath. The smell of her skin was in his nose and the taste of blood was on his tongue. It was still early; he raked a hand through his hair and felt sweat on his brow. His heart was pounding and his arms were shaking—he could still feel the warmth of her on his chest and forced himself up, out of bed, down the hall to the washroom. In the low light from his candle he could see himself in the mirror, splashing his face with a bit of water and still breathing somewhat hard.<br/>A dream.<br/>It was only a dream.<br/>It meant nothing—and nothing would come of it. It had been nearly a week and he was simply…he dried his face and met eyes with his reflection. Hair hanging into his face and unkempt from bed as he was, he looked a beast. Heaving a sigh he took himself back to bed, and watched the candle burn a moment longer before blowing it out again. <em>No more dreams,</em> he thought to himself, <em>at least, none such as that.</em></p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>That evening there was a knock at the door as Anakin was teasing Artoo with an old bone and Ben was reading some old ledgers on the sofa. Threepio brought back from the entryway a familiar young woman.<br/>“Miss Dormé,” Ben’s brow went up and he stood to greet her. Dormé nodded, smiling.<br/>“Just Dormé is fine, Mr. Kenobi—Padmé sent me.” Anakin stood now as well, letting Artoo have the bone.<br/>“Is she all right?” The younger man asked, and Dormé nodded again.<br/>“Oh yes, she’s doing fine; there’s been no excitement since your last visit,” she explained, sounding relieved. “But she sent me to give you this, Mr. Kenobi,” Dormé held out an envelope to Ben, who took it curiously and looked back up at her.<br/>“Oh?”<br/>“She said to explain that she’s terribly sorry for the delay, but that she’s enclosed an address and time for you to meet her tomorrow at Lord Palpatine’s personal library, in his home here in London.” Ben’s brow shot up at this.<br/>“Lord Palpatine? <em>He’s</em> the one she was talking about?” He asked incredulously, and Dormé smiled.<br/>“The Palpatines are family friends of the Amidalas,” she replied, “and Padmé was determined for you to see his library. It’s very well stocked, and she’s certain there should be something there of use to you all.” Ben nodded, a bit flabbergasted by this, and ran a hand over his bearded chin.<br/>“Yes—of course,” he got out, “Tell her we’ll be there tomorrow,” he nodded, and paused. “Would you like a cup of tea before you go? She’s had you come all this way—“<br/>“Oh no, not at all,” Dormé smiled cheerily, “I was out running a few errands myself! It’s no trouble. But I will pass along your greetings to her.” Ben nodded, smiling back.<br/>“Yes, please do. We shall see her tomorrow—and do be careful returning home, Dormé,” he added, and her smile widened pleasantly.<br/>“Thank you, Mr. Kenobi. Perhaps next visit I shall take you up on your hospitality; I would so love to find out what sort of tea you both enjoy. Goodnight!”</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>That night, there were no dreams he could remember—but he woke with the smell of her in his nose.</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>“For<em> once</em>,” Ben huffed at Anakin as he straightened his vest a bit, “we’re early.” Anakin smoothed his hair back and looked rather smug.<br/>“I told you I could get us here faster than that cabbie—and he halved the fee, even.”<br/>“No doubt in thanks for being able to keep his <em>life</em>—“ Anakin laughed, but Ben shook his head and smoothed down his coat, checking his hat once more before they approached the gates.<br/>Even Lord Palpatine’s front gate was imposing; the house itself had a strange, austere feeling to it, and once inside the gate the air felt…odd. Oppressive, even. If Anakin sensed it, he said nothing, and with some amount of pomp the two men were admitted to the mansion and ushered through very ornate and massive hallways into a huge library where Miss Amidala—and their magnanimous host—were both waiting.<br/>“Right on time,” Padmé greeted them with a warm smile, brilliantly bright in the otherwise dark and rouge-tinted interior of the library. She wore green again; vibrant and pale, with a pattern of cream-colored flowers and clouds on the tail of her skirt, and jewelry of gold and what looked like jade. Her long hair was braided and coiled again, pinned with a jade comb in an eastern style, carved into a peacock—as Anakin surged forward to say hello, Ben found himself wondering just when he’d started noticing so many details about appearance.<br/>“Miss Amidala, you’re looking lovely as ever,” he heard Anakin tell her, and nearly ran a hand over his face--his partner was entirely too forward, sometimes. Padmé smiled brightly at him, however.<br/>“Thank you, Mr. Skywalker—you look very well yourself—“ she cast her gaze at Ben and her smile curved just that much more, “And you, Mr. Kenobi.” She gestured them both over to where their host was stood, at ease in the imposing home. “Mr. Kenobi, Mr. Skywalker, this is my dear friend Lord Palpatine—he’s been a friend to my family for years and I was certain he would help with our research.” The older man bowed his head and offered them a pleasant enough smile as she introduced them, but Ben felt oddly ill-at-ease near him, somehow. Anakin bowed his head in return.<br/>“Thank you, my lord,” he spoke up, surprising Ben with his polite tone. “We’re eager to solve this strange case surrounding Miss Amidala—I’m sure with your library we’ll find what we need.” Palpatine looked pleased at this, nodding.<br/>“I do hope so, young Master Skywalker,” he replied, “Padmé is very dear to me. I should very much like to see this resolved—her safety is of the utmost importance.”<br/>“And to us,” Anakin assured him. Ben spoke up at last.<br/>“She is our priority currently, and I assure you we will do what we can to see this strangeness put to an end.” Palpatine offered him a small nod, and held his gaze for a long moment. Something about this man unnerved Ben—he seemed of indeterminate age, and all Ben could sense from him was cold; but there was little else for him to base his mistrust on. He simply nodded back.<br/>“Well then, I shall leave you to your work,” Palpatine excused himself, “My library is at your disposal.”</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>The afternoon saw Anakin trailing around the library with Padmé, asking about the various books that caught his eye and chatting about the curios Palpatine had displayed around the massive hall. Ben had found a desk to seat himself at with his journals and the books he’d pulled from the shelves himself, taking notes as he went.<br/><br/>There wasn’t much to really be had just yet, but he had found some interesting information on shadow conjuring that he hadn’t already had in the old family journal. This might begin to make sense, he thought to himself as he scratched down some lines about methods to bind shadows from a book he’d been paging through. It was surprisingly thorough for something someone like Palpatine would have possessed, but Ben assumed that nobility like him likely had troves of things they didn’t even realize were in their possession at all.<br/>This book in particular seemed to hold plenty of information he’d found useful, however. Vampires, shadows, demonic entities—<br/>“You seem to have found something promising.”</p>
<p><br/>Padmé’s voice made him jolt; he’d been so wrapped up in his copying that he hadn’t even noticed her come up to stand over the desk he was at. She laughed softly, smiling apologetically.<br/>“Oh dear. I didn’t mean to startle you—“<br/>“No, no—I lost track of things,” he smiled back, shaking his head sheepishly, “You ought to see the sort of nonsense Anakin gets up to when we’re studying…” He looked around briefly, raising an eyebrow, suddenly concerned. “Where did he go?” She smiled, glancing over at the entryway.<br/>“The restroom. I thought I might check on you.” Her eyes were warm and curious and she pulled a nearby stool to sit beside him, looking over his spread of materials with interest. “You certainly have found something—what is all of this?” She reached out, just short of touching his journal. He didn’t stop her.<br/>“My family has been doing this for a very long time—this book is a journal of our findings over the years.” She carefully flipped through a few of the pages, eyes scanning the sketches and notes taken with interest.<br/>“This is…amazing. I’m surprised you found anything you didn’t have in here already.” He pulled the book he’d been copying from over and pointed to where he’d been reading thus far.<br/>“I think I’ve found some useful information. This passage here, it’s about conjuring shadows, binding them to work for the conjuror.” Her brow knit some and she leaned closer, scanning the page. Immediately her scent filled his nose and for a moment his mouth went a bit dry, thinking of the dreams that week and swallowing thickly.<br/>“This is…black magic,” she said slowly. “This form of conjuring…it’s like demonic evocation.” He studied her for a moment.<br/>“That’s what I assumed as well. It seems like a mild form of summoning.” She nodded.<br/>“It is, really. It’s very dangerous.” She chewed her lip briefly, and he found himself staring. “But it would make sense, with the sulfur and the burning…” He nodded now himself.<br/>“The energy as well. Though I still have yet to come across anything like those markings…runes…<em>whatever</em> they were,” he continued pensively. Padmé was silent.<br/>“In magic use…” she started after a moment, “sometimes runes and sigils are <em>personal</em>—as in, they’re created and specific to each practitioner.” He looked at her curiously, watching her think this over, surprised at her knowledge. “If this creature is a shadow bound to a magic user, especially one as powerful as I imagine ours must be—“ She turned to face him and he finished for her.<br/>“—Then we haven’t seen the sigils before because they’re <em>personal</em> sigils.” She nodded, eyes widening slightly.<br/>“It must be. The creature seemed sentient, even—enough that it knew who you were…” her head tilted slightly as he glanced away. “There is something here that you have not explained.” She didn’t sound accusing, just understanding.</p>
<p>He sighed.<br/>“The creature…its face was familiar to me. The voice, even.” She was quiet, letting him continue. “But that <em>thing</em>…the form it assumed was someone who was not a demon.” His brow knit. “It couldn’t be him. It must have simply chosen a form to seem intimidating. Dark entities do such things to frighten, but they’re only illusions.” Padmé nodded slowly.<br/>“You’re right, but I still wonder.”</p>
<p><br/>“That night,” he started, taking his own turn to ask a question, choosing one that seemed more mild to open with. “You said ‘oak’ when I faced the creature.” he pulled his cane from where he’d rested it against the desk nearby and held it out to her. “You meant the wood, didn’t you?” She nodded, carefully taking the cane from him.<br/>“I did.” She ran a hand over the polished wood, “This is white oak. Was it a gift?” His brow rose.<br/>“It was, actually. How did you know?” She smiled, and he regretted it.<br/>“I <em>am</em> in fact a psychic, Mr. Kenobi,” she teased, and he colored a bit, glancing down.<br/>“Yes, well…” She held in a little laugh, keeping the cane in her hands and watching his expression fondly.<br/>“White oak is strong—especially when used for protection, and banishment.” She smiled, regarding him quietly, and held the cane back out to him. “In magic, oak calls to those who are <em>guardians</em>, who are brave, and persevere. It seeks a strong, good heart,” He looked up to meet her eyes now as his hand rested on the cane and her fingers brushed his, and realized they were quite close, since they’d leant together over the cane. “And it understands sacrifice.” Something in her tone made his breathing shallow out a bit, and he couldn’t look away. She understood so much more than he was aware of—and it both unnerved and thrilled him. He felt one of her fingers brush over his, and for a moment a wave of something…energy, emotion, <em>something</em>…washed over him as he looked at her. There was something akin to recognition in her eyes, her expression shifting just slightly in a way that told him she had felt it too.</p>
<p>“Am I interrupting something?”</p>
<p>Anakin’s harsh voice from the doorway startled Ben, and he recoiled, taking his cane with him. Padmé had settled back in her seat again, and her hands were in her lap. She shook her head, smiling at Anakin.<br/>“Oh! Not at all, Mr. Skywalker—Mr. Kenobi seems to have found some information,” she gestured to the desk as Anakin crossed the room, mistrust flickering in his eyes. Ben nodded, leaning his cane against the desk again.<br/>“I did, yes. We were looking at my cane, since it seemed to repel the creature that was in Miss Amidala’s apartment.” Anakin’s eyes went from Ben to the cane and then to Padmè.<br/>“And?”<br/>“And I believe we’re on the right track!” she was cheerful, not at all acknowledging his darkened demeanor. “Come and look, there’s a diagram here an artist left in this book…”</p>
<p>Ben watched as Anakin let Padmé show him the passages in the book and the copied notes in his journal that he’d been showing her previously, and saw Anakin’s mood very quickly shift. He wondered at this—but realization was dawning that perhaps his younger partner was a bit more fond of Miss Amidala than he’d wanted to think. The thought needled at him some, but he knew it wasn’t his place to be bothered by it. She was young, and lovely, and kind; it didn’t come as any surprise that a handsome young man like Anakin would take notice.<br/>He went back to the other books he’d pulled aside.</p>
<p><br/>•</p>
<p>The hour was almost impolitely late when they agreed to adjourn for the day. Padmé offered to host them for dinner, but Ben declined for both of them.<br/>“Our man at home likely is wondering where we are,” he smiled, and she nodded, smiling back as they all approached the curb. There were carriages lined already, and Anakin went to see about one for them as Padmé found her own.<br/>“I think we’ve made some progress,” she offered as Ben led her to the cab, and he nodded.<br/>“I believe you’re right.” He tapped the leather satchel he carried his journal and supplies in, “But that will have to be put to test, soon.” She nodded, pausing before climbing into the carriage.<br/>“Tomorrow I’m afraid I’m busy; but Lord Palpatine made it very clear the two of you are more than welcome to study there as you like, with or without me.” She smiled, “I’ve a few appointments tomorrow and Friday, but my weekend is quite open.” Ben smiled, giving a bow of his head.<br/>“Then perhaps this weekend our paths will cross again.” She nodded, pausing just a fraction longer, studying his face a moment.<br/>“Goodnight, Mr. Kenobi,” she gave a little bow of her head, and he did the same—but before they knew it he’d taken her hand to help her into the carriage cab, and her eyes fell on where their hands met before she settled inside. Her throat flashed briefly, pale and smooth, and Ben let go, trying not to think of the dream. He tipped his hat, fingers flexing at his side within his glove.<br/>“Goodnight, Miss Amidala.”</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>The next two days, Anakin volunteered to return to Lord Palpatine’s library himself. Ben was skeptical about this, not sure how comfortable with the idea he was, but once Anakin had set his mind to something there was little to no talking him out of it, and so he’d gone anyways. He’d managed to return at reasonable hours each night, though, and so Ben decided not to worry himself.<br/>“He’s a very interesting man,” Anakin mused over dinner Friday night, “He knows most of the books in the library.” Ben looked curious, setting his fork down a moment.<br/>“You spoke with him?”<br/>“Yes, of course,” Anakin gave him a disbelieving look, “Did you think he’d just left some <em>stranger</em> alone in his home?” Ben wasn’t entirely sure that would have been an issue, but didn’t press further.<br/>“Just mind your manners with him. He’s an important man.” Anakin rolled his eyes, and Ben leaned forward slightly. “He’s powerful, and I doubt Miss Amidala would appreciate you offending her family friend.”<br/>That put an end to any further protests from the younger man. Ben tried to ignore the little tendril of irritation that swirled up in him at the shift.</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>Saturday, they were invited to tea with Padmé.<br/>Dormé had made it and a tray of sweets, and Padmé had the three of them settled into her downstairs parlor. Anakin was very talkative; he discussed the past two days at Palpatine’s library, though Ben was getting the sense that Anakin had done more <em>socializing</em> than he had researching, from the sound of things.<br/>Otherwise, however, the afternoon passed quietly and pleasantly.</p>
<p>“My <em>real</em> reason in inviting you both today,” Padmé set her teacup and saucer down after a while, a secretive smile on her face as she addressed them, “Was that I have an invitation to extend!” Ben’s brow went up.<br/>“An invitation?”<br/>“To what, my lady?” Anakin leaned forward in interest.<br/>“A <em>party</em>,” she explained, pleased. “One of my dear friends is visiting the city and has extended an invitation to the both of you as well—I told him you were assisting me with a personal matter.” Ben’s brow knit slightly.<br/>“Who, if I may?”<br/>“Bail Organa!” Ben looked startled.<br/>“Bail Organa is here? Goodness. I haven’t seen him in years.” Padmé and Anakin both looked at him in surprise.<br/>“You know him?” Ben nodded, taking another drink of tea.<br/>“We met some years ago, yes. A friend of a friend,” he added, “But I did always like Bail very much. If he’s invited us as well then I don’t see why we would decline.” Padmé looked delighted.<br/>“Perfect!” She clapped her hands softly, “I’ve two invitations for you, it’s this coming weekend!” Ben went a bit still.<br/>“Oh?”<br/>“Yes—this next Friday evening. I’m sure it should be wonderful.” Ben relaxed a fraction, counting the days in his head. <em>Friday</em>. <br/>“Friday should be just fine,” he said finally, nodding. “I was afraid you might say Saturday.” Anakin was watching him curiously now as well, but Padme cocked her head slightly.<br/>“You were?”<br/>“I’m afraid I have a prior engagement Saturday next—but Friday night sounds lovely.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>realizations.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dreams continued.<br/>Not the regular sort, of course; he would have been lucky for that. No, the dreams that woke him from a dead sleep, the dreams that continued night after night, the dreams of her.</p>
<p>Ben was a rational man in spite of it all. There were explanations for things, there were reasons for things. These dreams…</p>
<p>
  <em>The two of them in her old room, soot on their hands and smoke in the air, her eyes bright and golden amidst the dark haze. They called him, and he came.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>She clasped his hand around the hilt of a gleaming silver sword and energy rushed around them like ocean waves as she leaned in close, and let him draw her against him. “Be my sword,” she murmured over the strange noise around them, “I wish for a blade, not a shield. Teeth, not armor.” And oh, the things he felt stir inside of him, even in the dream.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>She cradled his face under a round white moon, and the moonlight seemed to sink into her skin and make her glow from within—and when something terrible threatened to erupt from deep in his bones she opened her arms and bared her throat—</em>
</p>
<p>But more troubling still were not the nights he woke tasting blood, no—the worst of it, perhaps, were the gentle dreams.</p>
<p>They sat, today once again, in Lord Palpatine’s library, as they had all week. Ben pored over his work while Anakin took turns around the room with Miss Amidala, and Ben barely noticed, if he was honest, but those few times he looked up, caught an errant glance or a soft tremble of laughter, his mind was sent further elsewhere still.<br/>The gentle dreams. The dreams that made him wake with tight throat and aching chest.<br/>These were not dreams of teeth and flesh and blood, these were softer, warmer. These were dreams of laughter, and sweet whispers. Dreams of gentle touches, sunlight and song, feelings he thought he had forgotten long ago. These were dreams of her smile.<br/>He thought perhaps he might be in love with Miss Amidala.<br/>His eyes caught her face for a moment, in a flash of sunlight through one of the windows, and in his mind’s eye he could see her smiling, soft lips move, hear the perfect gentleness of her voice as she corrected him, each and every time: <em>“Padmé.”</em><br/>He caught a flash of her brown, lovely eyes in the sunlight, and he thought that he <em>was</em>, in fact, in love with Miss Amidala.</p>
<p>But if he was, then certainly so was Anakin. His eyes roamed from Padmé to the young man beside her, and watched, momentarily, as the two hunched over a glass dome displaying a pinned butterfly. He watched Padmé’s sweet eyes glitter as she laughed at something his partner said lowly to her, but then there was the smile that crossed Anakin’s face as she laughed as well.<br/>Anakin, who was younger, bolder. More handsome, less weighted down. Anakin would make her laugh, could likely make her happy—and Ben thought, not for the first time, that if there were a way for his partner to leave this work, leave this life behind, then perhaps it would be a family, his own. A family, a quiet life. A good life, a safe life. A <em>happy</em> life.<br/>He’d all but raised the boy since Quinn’s death, and Anakin had become both a brother and a son, somehow. Ben had taken care of him, had trained him, knew that Quinn had intended for Anakin’s life to be as theirs had been, would be, and yet…Ben hesitated. Even now, watching him there with Miss Amidala, watching her smile and giggle, watching the thin slants of light play over her face, in her curls, he hesitated, and thought of the things he wanted for his brother, his partner. Just so: safety, and happiness.<br/>The life he led did not promise either of those things. He wondered if perhaps a life with Miss Amidala might.</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>Friday evening came so quickly Ben hardly realized it was upon them when Anakin was getting himself dressed.<br/>“So you know this man, this Bail Organa?” He was in his trousers and fixing his shirtsleeves, and Ben nodded as he trimmed at his beard a bit.<br/>“I do, yes. It’s been some time, however.” He finished, wiped his face, sighed at his reflection. “It should be nice to see him again, all the same.” Anakin had a glint in his eyes that Ben had come to recognize by now.<br/>“And to see the party, and to see Miss Amidala.” Ben paused only slightly as he shrugged into his shirt, not facing Anakin. Last night’s dream was still on his mind; <em>the taste of blood and flesh and the smell of flowers, the warm feeling of her fingers on his skin, the sound of her soft voice still in his head, a language he knew but could not place, words he had forgotten the meaning of.</em><br/>“Yes…it will.” He took a breath, sighing softly to himself. “Though I feel mounting disappointment that we have not unearthed more about this strangeness surrounding her case.” Anakin frowned some.<br/>“It’s been a quiet few weeks. We may as well enjoy tonight—don’t be so <em>dour</em> about things.” He rounded a bit to face Ben head-on, brow rising. “At least <em>try</em> to enjoy yourself, will you?”<br/>Ben gave him a would-be stern look, but couldn’t quite find a retort to that.</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>The party was being held in a home Bail had bought in London, not terribly far from Miss Amidala’s residence. By the time Ben and Anakin arrived things seemed fully underway; they were admitted and Anakin almost immediately tried to take off into the chatting crowds. Ben caught his arm.<br/>“Anakin, please recall your manners while we’re here. Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Anakin looked somewhat ruffled for a moment, but then gave Ben a quick grin.<br/>“Off to mingle, of course.” And just like that, he was gone.<br/><br/>Ben sighed to himself, deciding he ought to at least try and find Bail, and set out into the house himself, taking a look around as he went. The place was warm, the air alive with the energy of the party and its guests. Music filtered through the rooms from a band somewhere, and people by and large seemed very at-ease, chatting and drinking around him. He felt comfortable enough to take a glass of wine from a passing tray, at last, and not long after he’d done so he came across the party’s host himself.</p>
<p>Bail Organa was a tall, striking man with a handsome face and a pleasant smile, and a way of making people feel welcomed around him. Ben had liked that about him, ever since they’d met; and now he had a few of his guests around him chatting when he noticed Ben approaching.<br/>“Ben Kenobi!” His voice was delighted and briefly paused conversation around him as Ben walked up, raising his glass in reply and smiling.<br/>“Lord Organa now, is it?” He offered back, and Bail came forward to clap his shoulder and take his hand for a moment.<br/>“Bail to you, old friend.” He nodded as the people he’d been speaking with began to disperse, and remained with Ben, the two of them watching the partygoers from near the wall. “It’s been too long—I was pleasantly surprised when Padmé brought up your name!” Ben nodded, taking a drink of his wine.<br/>“Too long indeed. I’m doing a bit of night work for Miss Amidala,” he replied, and Bail nodded.<br/>“I see.” His gaze darkened some, “Similar to the Trans-Saharan excursion?” Ben frowned slightly, sighing into his wine.<br/>“Somewhat. I’m afraid this is proving more complicated, however.” Bail turned to look at him now, concerned.<br/>“Is she in so much danger?”<br/>“It’s hard to say.” He glanced up now himself, “I wasn’t aware you two were close.”<br/>“Her family and mine have done business together for a long time—and my wife’s family now as well.”<br/>“Yes,” Ben tapped his glass to Bail’s, “Congratulations on that; I do still regret missing the ceremony.”<br/>“Breha would be delighted to meet you one day.” Bail smiled, “You should visit. You’d like her, she’s ridiculously clever,” He sounded proud enough that Ben smiled, “She likes to tinker, would you believe it?” Ben laughed softly.<br/>“She sounds delightful,” he agreed, nodding, “I’d love to meet her. It seems you’ve had a good few years since I saw you last.” Bail nodded, smiling, watching the crowds again.<br/>“I have. I hope you’ve had better years yourself?” Ben sighed at this.<br/>“My…mentor passed, the year after we met,” He replied quietly, “My partner now was the second ward he took on, and I’ve cared for him ever since.” Bail nodded solemnly.<br/>“I’m sorry to hear that. Is the lad here?” Ben nodded.<br/>“He is, yes—somewhere around here. I’m sure he’ll drift in at some point.”</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>But in fact it was <em>not</em> Anakin who drifted into the room as the two men continued their conversation.</p>
<p>They’d been joined by a few others by now; some Ben knew from around the city but others he did not—and then his focus completely dropped from the guests around him as they chatted on.<br/>Ben saw her before Bail did, in pearl satin and lace, her long hair in a draping braid coiled at the back of her head. Loose ringlets still wisped around her face, however, and he found himself charmed by it as always. She wore pearls, but her slender neck was bare and somehow that made her look all the more elegant. She seemed to part the crowd as she walked, like a sliver of moonlight in the otherwise golden-toned room. She was <em>beautiful</em>, and he was struck again with the overwhelming thought that he may love her, watching her glide across the floor to him, a pale white swan on a dark lake.<br/>“Padmé!” Bail was the one to greet her as she approached, smiling at the two men brightly and giving Bail a one-armed embrace, holding a glass of wine.<br/>“Bail—“ But she turned, and smiled at Ben. “Mr. Kenobi, I see you found him!” Ben gave her a polite bow, smiling back.<br/>“I did; and now you’ve found the both of us.”<br/>“So I have.” She reached and tapped the rim of her glass to his, “I’m glad you came.” She looked around briefly, and then back at him curiously, “But where is Mr. Skywalker?” Ben smiled,<br/>“He’s around here somewhere, hopefully not getting himself—or myself—into any trouble.”</p>
<p>Without any hesitation, Miss Amidala took his arm.<br/>“Why don’t we form a search party, then—we’ll go find him.” She nodded at Bail, gently guiding Ben away from the group that had formed, “We’ll bring him to meet you!” Bail and a few of the others chuckled, but let them go—and she led Ben from the room, the two of them arm-in-arm. He glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow.<br/>“A search party, hm?” She only smiled.<br/>“Well, we’re searching a party for him at any rate.” Ben laughed at this, nodding.<br/>“So we are.”</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>They wandered through the house together, and Ben felt…a strange mixture of anticipation and calm; it was the most bizarre thing, holding her arm this way. But as they walked, he found himself more and more at ease.<br/>“I’m glad you were able to speak with Bail a bit,” She smiled over at him at length, “he mentioned earlier that it had been some years since you had seen one another.”<br/>“It has, yes.” He nodded, “A good few years. It was good to see him and see him so well.” She looked curious.<br/>“Might I ask how you both met? He was surprisingly mum on the subject.” Ben took a small breath, focusing ahead of them.<br/>“We were traveling in Africa, actually.”<br/>“Africa! You’ve been to Africa?” He nodded.<br/>“I have. I was in Egypt for a time before I traveled through part of the Sahara and then into Tunisia. I met Bail on the Trans-Saharan Trade Route, in Marrakech.” Miss Amidala looked amazed.<br/>“You’ve traveled through Africa—what a marvelous tale that must be.”<br/>“Certainly a tale there, yes…” Africa had been much more than simply the Trans-Saharan excursion, and Ben looked a bit faraway remembering for a moment. He felt Miss Amidala’s hand press on his arm gently, and her voice was soft.<br/>“I should like to hear it one day,” she smiled, and he knew she understood. He carefully patted her hand, nodding.<br/>“When we’ve a bit more time, perhaps.” He took a breath, “But I imagine Bail was quiet about the subject as it was somewhat similar to your own.” Her eyes widened.<br/>“…Oh?”<br/>“Not the same, certainly, but of a <em>phenomenal</em> nature.”<br/>“I see.”<br/>“Vampires,” Ben said quietly, keeping his eyes forward. They didn’t particularly risk being overheard among the dull roar of conversation and music and laughter around them, but all the same, caution was king. “A very old curse and some antiquities that were perhaps not altogether legitimate in origin or procurement.” She gasped softly.<br/>“Stolen?” He stifled a smile.<br/>“I’m afraid that was not information Bail or I were privy to, but I imagine so.” She shook her head, eyes wide.<br/>“An Egyptian vampire curse, stolen artifacts—my goodness Mr. Kenobi, what haven’t you done?”<br/>“Gotten a bit of peace or personal respite,” he replied drily, but smiled at her all the same, and she laughed.</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>There was no sign of Anakin by the time they stumbled upon what was being used as a ballroom, and when Miss Amidala took his arms to lead him towards the other dancing pairs, he was less hesitant than he might have been otherwise.<br/>“Will you indulge me, Mr. Kenobi? I do love to dance…” He sighed in mock frustration, but went with her easily.<br/>“I suppose I could be coerced into a single dance.” She laughed softly as they took up a position and joined the other couples, but moments later she only looked surprised.<br/>“I had no idea you could dance so well!” He cleared his throat some, glancing off a bit.<br/>“I’m a bit out of practice, I’m afraid.” She smiled, hand resting on his shoulder and running her thumb over his jacket lightly.<br/>“I shall have to extend more invitations to parties, then,” she replied, and he smiled back.<br/>“I shall have to accept more of your invitations then, Miss Amidala.”<br/>“Padmé,” she corrected him softly, and he felt her press closer, felt his heart flutter in his chest at the motion. His arm around her waist shifted just slightly.<br/>“Just so,” he replied in kind, and felt her fingers curl around his where their hands were clasped.<br/>“You look dashing tonight,” she said after a moment, the music slowing some. He met her gaze and smiled, set at ease by the softness of her brown eyes.<br/>“And you look possibly more lovely than usual,” he replied, “though I confess that seems no easy feat, even for you.” She let out a small breath of laughter, but then he could see her cheeks flush ever so slightly.<br/>“Goodness. Do you charm all of your clients this way?” His smile widened.<br/>“Only the ones I dislike.” Her brow shot up, and he almost laughed, “I hardly consider it ‘charming’ if it’s simple honesty.” Her eyes widened, and she laughed, soft and happy.</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/><br/>The dance got somewhat slower, more intimate, and he found himself closer to her than he’d expected. They moved together and he caught her perfume, unconsciously leaning closer to her to smell it. She noticed, and he felt sheepish.<br/>“Do you like it?” She smiled up at him, not bothered at all.<br/>“I do; it’s lovely.”<br/>“I quite like it myself; it’s very floral, isn’t it?” They moved in a circle and his nose was near her hair again.<br/>“But with something else beneath it,” he said softly, “something <em>other</em>.” She nodded.<br/>“Yes. I was drawn to it the instant I smelled it.”<br/>“It suits you.” He told her, “like a rose; beautiful to behold, but with something sharp beneath.” He colored a bit at the sound of his own remark, and she smiled.<br/>“Would it be bold of me to say I was anticipating seeing you this evening?”</p>
<p>Ben felt his throat tighten some.<br/>“…It would perhaps be just bold enough,” he said without thinking, but before he could think of amending it, the smile that spread over her face took his breath away.<br/><em>Oh no,</em> he thought, somewhere in the still-conscious bit of his mind, <em>I am in love with her.</em><br/> “I am relieved then,” she murmured back, “I fear I have been accused of boldness far too often in my life.”<br/>“They do say fortune favors the bold.”<br/>“And misfortune, as well,” she replied quietly. He tilted his head slightly, holding her gaze.<br/>“We will soon dispel it,” he assured her, low and firm, and squeezed her hand.</p>
<p>She took a breath, and shook her head.<br/>“You mean yourself and Mr. Skywalker,” she said quietly, and met his eyes. “But I can help you.” She pressed closer—he could feel her body firmer against his and for a moment his hand at her waist faltered, nearly removed itself. “<em>Let</em> me help you,” she all but commanded. His eyes searched hers, and his brow knit slightly.<br/>“You’ve been a great help already—“<br/>“By proxy, for the most.” She had leaned close, and he silently hoped she could not feel how his heart was beating. “I can do more. I do not want to sit passively while you protect me.”<br/>“We need more information first,” he shook his head, “and I cannot risk your safety that way. I <em>will</em> not.” She gazed up at him with a slight knit in her brow, and her hand on his shoulder had gone to the side of his neck without him noticing. The touch made him tense slightly, but as if of its own accord, his hand at her waist had slid around her, holding her in close.<br/>“I have been a rose my entire life,” she told him, “kept behind glass, tended to meticulously but <em>kept</em> all the same.” She gave a small shake of her head, her eyes focused on his—and he saw it there, that strange golden glow, the one from his dreams, the one he swore he’d imagined before. “But you said yourself, roses keep a sharpness beneath their petals.” Her face was so close to his, and he felt a sense of foreboding well up in him. He realized, just then, that this felt surreal, this felt…this felt like a dream.<br/>Like a dream, like <em>his</em> dreams.<br/>He could recall the taste of blood on his tongue.</p>
<p>“I do not wish for anyone to blindly go into battle for me. I do not wish to send you to fight alone.” He could smell her perfume, the smell of her skin, could feel the warmth emanating from her, “I told you before. I ask not for a shield,” she whispered, “I ask you to do battle <em>beside</em> me, not in my stead. I ask for a sword.” Her lips were so close to his and he wanted, needed, to kiss her—but something in him was clawing and tearing from inside, the same thing from the dreams, the same thing he feared in himself and in <em>loving</em> her—</p>
<p>
  <em>“Will you be my blade?”</em>
</p>
<p>His eyes widened, and there was a rushing sound in his ears at the memory; so many memories, dreams that came and went, dreams that ended in blood, an angry, deep hunger, a need and a ferocity he knew too well and feared, and all at once he’d released her and was striding quickly out of the room, out of the house, and into the night air.</p>
<p>He couldn’t look back, couldn’t stop—he could not stomach the thought of what might happen if he did.<br/><br/></p>
<p>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>It was the middle of the next week when Anakin came to call on Miss Amidala.<br/>Sabé led him inside to her tea room, and Padmé smiled at him in welcome, but could not hide the dismay in her gaze when he informed her he was alone.<br/>“Please tell Mr. Kenobi he was missed, then,” she offered politely, but Anakin wet his lips some.<br/>“That is rather why I’ve come, actually.” He took a small breath, “Ben’s gone to Marrakech,” he stated, “He’s an old friend there who deals in antiquities, and went in pursuit of a lead on your case. While he’s away, I’ll be at your service should you need.” He gave her a bow, and Padmé looked rather stunned.<br/>“To—to Marrakech?” She managed after a long moment. Anakin nodded, and she looked away. “I see.”</p>
<p>There was a long pause, and finally Padmé smiled again, nodding at Anakin.<br/>“Then let us hope he finds what he is looking for there, and returns safely.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>a letter from africa</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strike>Miss Amidala,</strike>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Padmé,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I hope this letter finds you safe and well; I am told post from Cairo is a somewhat precarious business. Anakin has, I assume, accurately kept me informed of things there. I understand there was another attack, and that he was able to drive off your assailant. His account of the ‘creature’ was much like our own encounter from the sound of things, which gives me hope that it may simply be this single entity working on its own.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>However, my findings recently seem to dictate that there is yet another unknown source of power behind our shadow friend.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I have found here with my friend in Egypt some information of strange and notable importance—things which I believe you will understand better than myself. I would send them ahead, but I fear the post perhaps as much as I fear our villain in the shadows. I shall carry them along with myself, and look forward to your insights upon my return to London.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I am…regretful of my sudden flight from the city. From England. However it was necessary at the time, and I do not regret the information it has borne. This, we have needed. This, I believe, will help to lift the shadows. </em>
  <br/>
  <em>And so I cannot apologize so sincerely for my exit, not even to you.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I can, with hope, ask for your forgiveness. I can, with more hope still, wish that you will grant it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Anakin is capable, as I know you have come to understand without my telling you. I trust in his abilities, and his desire to keep you protected as well. I am sure that you have found a suitable companion in him.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>For now, should you desire to send post, ensure it is care of the Ohnaka Trading Company. My friend will see it into my hands.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Until we meet again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strike>Yours,</strike>
  </em>
  <br/>
  <em>
    <strike>Regards,</strike>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ben Kenobi</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>homecoming.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Mr. Kenobi,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Forgive my shorthand, but my writing you is a matter of importance and, I hope, of swift action.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>In your absence I understand Padmé has written you—or perhaps at least that you have written her—though I write to you now about Padmé and about your ward, Mr. Skywalker.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I do not wish to divulge much via the post, but perhaps face-to-face we might better speak. I have arranged with your man Threepio to meet you at the station in his stead. I imagine you have not forgotten my face even in your absence, but I shall wear blue to meet you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>— Sabé</em>
</p>
<p><br/>The letter was…troubling.</p>
<p>Ben had read it twice and then again, turning the envelope containing it over and over in his hands as the train carried him across the countryside. It had reached him once he’d gotten into port, and he hadn’t any other communication since then—but he was almost to London again, and hopefully would soon understand this strange entreaty from Miss Sabé.<br/>The thought of Padmé, however…</p>
<p>He’d dreamt of her, while he was traveling. More of the dreams that had haunted him in London, but some different than before.<br/>There were dreams of blood—teeth and dirt and darkness, blood dreams that he swallowed down and wanted to forget—and then some that seemed somber and quiet, as if he were watching her through a veil, seeing her go about her daily life, though that seemed absurd. There were moments, still, where through the odd film of here and there, his dreaming and the visions of her, and their eyes met—and Ben could swear she had truly been looking at him.</p>
<p>Perhaps more vexing, however, were the dreams that were <em>hungry</em>; dreams of mouths and fingertips and flesh, writhing bodies and heat and <em>hunger</em> that made him wake, aching and needy, and filled him with shame each time he sated himself with his palm. This was not the man he was—certainly not who he <em>should</em> be—and Pa- <em>Miss Amidala</em> was young, beautiful, from a good family and with prospects; this was inappropriate.<br/>He thought of the way she smiled at him, like it was a secret, just for him.<br/>The way her hands brushed his just so here and there, innocent but so full of possibility. </p>
<p>His chest constricted at the thought of her brown eyes on his and the way she spoke when it was just between the two of them, the way her soft lips looked when they formed his name.</p>
<p>...He could keep his own secrets, no matter how shameful. <br/>Even moreso, in that case.</p>
<p><br/>•</p>
<p><br/>There was, also, the ever-present presence of their strange entity—over the past few months Ben had dreamed also of the dark creature; though the further into the desert and further into his research he got the dreams were not always at night.<br/>Not always when he slept.</p>
<p>Visions in the heat—unlike mirages. Real, and substantial. Interactive. Visions that, often, he was certain were much more than just visions.<br/><em>“Kenobi...”</em> the voice that was many whispered and snarled and howled all at once. Familiar, unwanted. <em>“Once more, Kenobi...”</em> A laugh. A scream. <strong><em>“Once more!”</em></strong></p>
<p><em>No.</em> He thought of golden hair and pale blue eyes, and folded Sabé’s letter back into the envelope. <em>Never again.</em><br/>This would end differently. Miss Amidala—Padmé—would be protected. And now he was that much closer to managing it; once this creature was banished, done away with, he could do the utmost thing to protect her within his power: disappear from her life entirely.</p>
<p>The train rolled on, London looming in the distance.</p>
<p><br/>•<br/><br/></p>
<p>As promised, Sabé waited at the station, clad in a dark, ashen sort of blue. The air was cold, filled with steam from the train, and harsh—but he wasn’t particularly bothered by it as he collected his bag and crossed the platform to meet her.</p>
<p>“Miss S—“<br/>“Just Sabé,” she corrected immediately, but there was no hardness to her voice. “I am glad to see you again, Mr. Kenobi, and moreso that you seem entirely whole still.” He couldn’t help but smile at this, falling into step beside her as they left the station.<br/>“Well, how kind of you to say so. I suppose I needn’t mention I received your letter,” he remarked casually, and she kept her gaze ahead of them.<br/>“I took great care ensuring you would,” she replied evenly, taking his arm as they stepped out into the cold street air. “I have some matters to discuss with you, Mr. Kenobi, and as I stated in my letter, I think it best we speak in person.” Ben kept her arm, watching the people on the streets pass before his eyes briefly went skyward. Far from the golden cities of Africa, pale sands and streets and the expanse of blue above, London was shades of gray—and now in the winter it was cold, and snow made the city pale too, but pale with cold rather than the sun gold of Marrakech or Cairo.<br/>“Tell me of these things you would not put to writing,” he asked finally, glancing sidelong at her. Sabé kept his arm and they walked.<br/>“Let us walk, perhaps somewhere populated. Somewhere we might become invisible.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>As it happened, that place they might disappear was a museum. Among the crowds and the exhibits, they walked arm in arm and spoke, quite indistinct from any other pair there.<br/>“Things have been quite usual in the past months,” she told him, “I imagine you heard about the...unpleasantness, not long past your departure?”<br/>“Anakin wrote me in May, I believe,” he recalled, eyes trailing over a painting—some dark thing, hunters riding down a great beast. “He detailed that there was some amount of difficulty one evening, for all of you.” <br/>“He bears quite a striking scar now,” she replied, “It was quickly healed, nothing more than cosmetic damage, of course.” Her grasp on his arm tightened. “It was a dreadful thing, that night. I am still as yet to see this...creature, this thing, that plagues her—not fully, anyway. I wonder if Mr. Skywalker saw it entirely; unquestionably it saw him. Padmé is safe, as is our household, though...” She trailed off, eyes on a painting of a woman, a huntress, and her hounds.<br/>“Though...?” Ben prompted gently, watching her with quiet interest.</p>
<p>Sabé sighed, and their wak began once more.<br/>“Something...something is much changed, Mr. Kenobi.” Her voice was different as well, low and somehow still. “Something in Mr. Skywalker is changed.” They stopped, facing one another as other patrons passed by. Ben’s brow knit.<br/>“In Anakin?” Sabé’s gaze was intense, hard, and she stepped close.<br/>“There is a darkness in him,” she told him, hushed. “Something that grows. Something...unright,” she looked away, and inhaled deep through her nose. “I did not feel it until lately—I haven’t the sense for that. But Padmé...Padmé understood it with haste. I believe she thought perhaps it would pass, would flee like a shadow in the light,” Sabé shook her head. “We wanted to believe her. I truly believe we were all wrong.” Ben’s breathing had shallowed slightly.<br/>“Sabé...” His brow knit, and she took his arm again. <br/>“This is why I have met you today. I believe there is a strange darkness upon your ward, and it may yet be a new foe to face.”<br/>Ben’s eyes left her face and he took a deep, slow breath, digesting her words. His gaze trailed to the wall, and the painting there was dark, and shadow. A monster, a nightmare.<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>A cab brought them to Miss Amidala’s flat. Sabé sat a moment longer with Ben, and held his gaze.<br/>“What’s taken place between Padmé and Mr. Skywalker, I cannot say. But I ask you to speak with her about it, if you would oblige me.” Ben’s eyes flicked to the door beyond the front gate.<br/>“Is she—“<br/>“Not here,” Sabé answered, fixing her gaze on his face. “She’s begun seeing someone, a man she met abroad, in New York.” Ben felt his chest constrict, just so.<br/>“I see.” Sabé watched him, and her voice was quiet.<br/>“He’s charming. Certainly friendly enough. She hasn’t told him about...” She gestured vaguely, “All of this, the work you and Mr. Skywalker are doing for her.” Ben felt...strangely adrift, hearing Sabé speak of this. He nodded finally, and managed a smile in spite of the odd emotions suddenly swelling up.<br/>“I suppose that’s a safe enough idea on her part. No need to involve anyone in such things until we’ve a better grasp upon all of it.”<br/>“And do we?” Sabé leant a bit closer. “Do we have a better grasp upon any of it?”</p>
<p>Ben took a breath,<br/>“I believe we are starting to.” Sabé nodded, and gathered her things to exit. Outside, it had begun to lightly flurry again, and she let Ben help her out of the cab. “I shall call upon Miss Amidala soon to share what I discovered in Africa.”<br/>As he climbed back into the cab, he watched Sabé on the sidewalk, blue among the white.<br/>“Please do, Mr. Kenobi. I know she will be very interested to hear.”</p>
<p><br/>•</p>
<p><br/>That evening, by the time he had settled in somewhat and Threepio had dinner set, Anakin arrived home again.</p>
<p>“Ben!” He strode into the dining room and immediately, Ben could see a change in his ward.<br/>Even in the candlelight—kept low, Ben had remarked upon it but offhandedly, earlier—he could see it: Anakin had grown more pale, looked as if perhaps he needed a bit more sleep, and his hair had grown out. The scar Sabé had spoken of was over his right eye, slashed through his brow and onto his cheekbone. It wasn’t terrible, truly, but Ben couldn’t help but feel guilty. Had he been here, perhaps Anakin might not have been so marked.<br/>Now, he stood at the table and greeted Anakin with an embrace—but could not miss that even there, even touching him, something was wrong.<br/>“Anakin,” Ben greeted, and stepped back to look him over again. Now, he felt strangely...cold. All at once placid and full of motion, but it was almost a familiar sort of feeling, one that Ben could not quite place.<br/>“You look sunned, old man,” Anakin laughed, and Ben smiled. His voice sounded normal; he almost seemed completely normal, but something, <em>something</em>, was not quite right.<br/>“I did see it here and there,” he replied, and both of them sat. “Such is the desert.”<br/>“And now you’ve returned here when the sun is leaving us,” Anakin mused across the table, and Ben took up his drink.<br/>“I cannot say it pains me to leave the heat behind, truly.”</p>
<p>For a time, they ate in relative silence, until finally,<br/>“Did you find what you were looking for?” Anakin paused his fork, watching Ben over their plates. Ben rested his fork as well.<br/>“I found some things which I believe will prove helpful, yes. I should like to review them shortly—“ he took a breath, “How is Miss Amidala?” Anakin at once shifted, somehow, in his demeanor. The candleflames from the settings on the table seemed to light his eyes, in a way that made something in Ben prickle.<br/>“Padmé has been safe,” he replied firmly, “I’ve kept her perfectly protected.” Ben faltered slightly at her name, and heard Sabé’s words again. <em>What’s taken place between Padmé and Mr. Skywalker, I cannot say.</em><br/>“Not without some issue,” he noted, gesturing carefully to Anakin’s scar. The younger man began to eat again, but his eyes very slowly left Ben.<br/>“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”<br/>“Yes—and for that I am very proud. You did well in my absence.” There was a sudden silence that Ben could not read, and a strange look in his eyes that passed all at once.<br/>“Thank you, Ben.” A beat, and Ben began to eat again as well before adding,<br/>“I thought I might call on her tomorrow to discuss my findings—“<br/>“Padmé was ill today,” Anakin cut in, sharp as the knife that sliced through the meat on his plate, leaving a trail of red to spill over the rest of the plate and into the rest of his food. “Sabé told me this morning.” Ben paused.<br/>“Oh?”<br/>“I was going to take her to lunch, and Sabé let me know she was ill.” He took a slow, savoring bite of the red meat, and gave Ben a pleasant sort of optimism, “Perhaps she’ll be better tomorrow.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>That night, Ben was up a bit later than normal.<br/>He paced his upstairs office in lightclothes and his navy blue smoking jacket, pipe lazily trailing smoke as he made a slow path around the room. The nights were cold now and he still had a fire in the small brazier, quietly crackling nearby. In his hands was his journal, flipped open to the pages he’d recorded while working this particular case—more specifically, the quick jotted symbols he recorded from the burns and scorch marks, and the ones he could make out on the creature’s form, when it was corporeal enough to even make them out.<br/>His brow knit as he studied the pages, but his mind continued to wander, mostly to Anakin.</p>
<p>What had happened in the past months he’d been gone? What had changed in his apprentice, his brother? This wasn’t like him at all. He recalled the paleness of the younger man’s face, the sharp look in his eyes.<br/>And Padmé...<br/>Ben paused in front of the fireplace, watching the flames for a long moment.<br/>Selfishly his mind wandered from the strangeness with Anakin to his feelings for the lovely woman they were currently working for. Clearly Anakin had some feelings of his own for her, but Sabé’s concerns and the reveal that Padmé was currently seeing someone else made him question those feelings or how they may or may not have been expressed in his absence.<br/>In some ways, Ben had hoped that Padmé might return those feelings he’d seen in Anakin, that perhaps she might prove a way for him to find a normal life, away from all of this.<br/>But there were his own feelings, as well.</p>
<p>He’d thought he could forget them. Or run from them, maybe. From London to Marrakech to Cairo and back, he wasn’t sure. He’d fled London out of fear for her—fear of himself—and yet she had followed him. In his dreams, in the visions in the desert, she had followed him. Now back in London, he was secretly glad he hadn’t seen her today, but soon he would have to be in her presence again. When that time came...<br/>Ben sighed, breathing out a thin stream of smoke. She was with someone else, now, which he supposed did away with any intentions he or Anakin might have had with her. <br/>He dumped the remainder of tobacco and ash in his pipe onto the flames and dreaded sleep that night.<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>The next morning, Ben woke from a somewhat fitful rest.<br/>Dreams came as they so usually did, recently, but these dreams…smoke and fog, or a fog that burned like smoke. The sun going dark, bodies littering the ground. The sound of wings, great and terrible. Eyes, red like fire and burning through him, but not the Creature they had faced thus far. This was something different, something much more dangerous, something much more ancient.<br/>Somehow, he felt, something familiar.<br/>But amidst it all, there was her. Padmé. There amongst the pestilence and chaos, pale and beautiful and terrible, somehow, wrapped in great leathery wings by a possessive beast, and her eyes were gold and pierced through him.<br/><em>Too late,</em> he could hear her voice, a song and a whisper, <em>It will end with blood. They will come, and shadow behind…</em><br/>Her eyes were aglow and hollow, somehow, and he could not place where he had seen such eyes before. In her face, they were the most horrid thing he’d ever seen.</p>
<p>Day had broken on a pale, gray city, snow still light on the ground. He dressed, as usual. Trimmed his beard, coiffed his hair. Took the morning paper and breakfast by the fire with Artoo settled nearby, already tucked into a bone on the rug before the hearth. Anakin woke late, which came as no surprise to Ben, though he seemed in high enough spirits to quickly eat and then head for the front door.<br/>“Where are you off to?” Ben called after him, watching the young man stop in the doorway to the dining room.<br/>“I intended to inquire after Padmé this morning,” he replied, and it seemed almost reluctant. Ben set the paper aside and stood, straightening his sleeves.<br/>“Ah—then let me come along with you; I should like to set a date for her to take a look at what I’ve brought back from my excursion.”<br/>There was a look in Anakin’s eyes that made Ben falter—something dark and furious—and then it was gone.<br/>“…Of course.”<br/>And a few brief moments later, coats in place and Ben’s cane in hand, they departed.</p>
<p>Out on the cold streets of London, they made their way briskly through the thin crowds in relative silence. The closer they got to Miss Amidala’s flat, the more Ben fixated on the strange dreams again.<br/>He didn’t understand this new strange narrative his dreams had taken—<em>Too late</em>, she had said. <em>They will come</em>.<br/>What any of this meant, he had no idea.<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>“I’m afraid she’s not in today,” Dormé was the one to greet them, after Typho met them at the door. Beside him, Ben could sense great tension in Anakin, whose hands flexed in his gloves.<br/>“She was ill yesterday, is she recovered?” Ben frowned at the tone of his ward’s voice, but Dormé did not so much as blink, pleasant smile still on her face.<br/>“She is, much so. She had a prior engagement today, however, but I will let her know you came to call.” She turned to Ben specifically now, and her smile widened. “I know she will be very glad to hear you stopped by, Mr. Kenobi. Padmé has quite looked forward to seeing your findings—and your return, of course.”</p>
<p>Anakin turned away in a huff from the flat’s gate, and when Ben caught him by the shoulder, before he could say a word, the younger man shrugged him off.<br/>“I’m going back to take Artoo for a walk,” he said quickly, and was even more quickly still stalking off down the sidewalk.<br/>Ben sighed, and straightened his coat, watching Anakin go. It was just as well, he supposed; at least now he might run some errands without any interference or impediment.</p>
<p><br/>•</p>
<p><br/>It was after seeing to the post he’d missed that his path brought him to yet another unusual occurrence that day. Clad in pale gray wool and plush black and gray fur, a muff and lace-trimmed hat to match, he brushed past her a bit more harshly than he intended and turned to apologize only to find himself face-to-face—<br/>“Ben Kenobi!” He’d know the delighted voice anywhere, and smiled at its owner.<br/>“Lady Blanchett. I had no idea you were in London!” She flashed him a pleased smile, and immediately took his arm.<br/>“Only just recently, in fact, but I believe you are in quite the same predicament!” She patted his arm with a hand gloved in white leather. “And so you simply must join me for lunch, Master Kenobi—it has been far too long and I believe you are in need of my counsel.”</p>
<p>Lady Shahrzad Blanchett was, to be <em>simplistic</em>, a socialite, a patroness of the arts and sciences, and, on occasion, a consultant for his cases.<br/>He hadn’t seen her in some few years now—she’d been abroad, more places, he was sure, than one might presume—but their running into one another now seemed…<br/>“Do not insult me by using the word ‘coincidence’, Master Kenobi,” she tutted at him as they were escorted to a table together in the much warmer restaurant. Now without her coat, he could see she wore a green gown that made her eyes that much more pronounced. Emerald green and trimmed in silk brocade patterned with gold stitching—a much more reserved sort of dress than he thought he’d ever seen her in with a high collar that buttoned completely up her neck. He smiled over the table at her.<br/>“Of course not, Lady Blanchett—“<br/>“How many times must I command you to call me Shahrzad,” she sighed, settling in, “You know I can’t stand such demure manners from men who needn’t offer them.” Ben laughed quietly.<br/>“No more than I can stand your endearing pet names, Shahrzad,” he countered, and she smiled back, satisfied.<br/>“Now then. I do hope you’ve a simple order, my dear Master Kenobi, because I believe we’ve a good bit to discuss and I do hate being interrupted.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>Over their lunch, Shahrzad detailed about some of her travels, but eventually leant in slightly.<br/>“So do tell me about Marrakech. Are they still throwing themselves from the balconies in my name? I do miss it, you know…” Ben had long since grown used to her knowing things before any mention of them, and only smiled.<br/>“I’m certain the city still mourns its loss, as London does each time you take your leave.” She laughed, pleased, and he paused a moment, “Are you already aware of the details of my latest case?” Shahrzad sobered some, but her smile remained.<br/>“Mm, some. This is different, and I am intrigued. This time, there is a great shroud around you. Did you know?” Ben took a small breath, settling back in his chair and taking a sip of his tea.<br/>“I had a feeling you might suggest something similar.” He watched the tiny bits of tea leaves swirl at the bottom of his teacup as he thought over his next words. “This case is…quite different. Nothing I’ve worked on before has been like this.”</p>
<p>Shahrzad studied him over her tea, and Ben saw the look in her eyes. It was not concern, not worry or doubt or hesitation. It was curiosity, excitement.</p>
<p>Shahrzad was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever encountered; her story was that she was of English and Indian parentage, and inherited the estate and title of her late father. With her dark skin and dark hair she garnered plenty of attention, but it was her eyes that had always startled him. Bright green, deep green, a color he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen on anyone else he’d come across. She watched him now and a smile curved her full, rosy lips into a smile, and Ben held her gaze. With her plush lips, her heavy-lashed, heavy-lidded, almond shaped eyes, and the dark curls loose from her long, coiled braid that hung just so around her face, Shahrzad was beautiful in the way a tiger was beautiful, in the way the belladonna was beautiful. The way that drew in the uncareful, the way that was shared by all things that were dangerous.<br/>“Do tell, Master Kenobi,” she purred over her teacup, “You know how much I love a good story.”</p>
<p>He started in about the case, about Padmé, and she listened with silent interest, watching him all the while. She made no sign of interrupting until he’d finished.<br/>“Can you tell me about this writing you’ve seen?” Ben swiftly went into the interior pocket of his jacket, and withdrew his small notebook and the pencil there with.<br/>“I can show you, actually.” He flipped to the pages he’d jotted the symbols down upon, and gestured to the different patterns of them with the pencil. “These were the characters I saw in the burns, and these on the Creature when it appeared.” He shook his head, “Like nothing I’ve seen—but I believe I found similarities in the Hieroglyphs on the artifacts I recovered.”<br/>“I see,” she replied at length, eyes studying the strange series of symbols. Finally she took a long drink from her tea and slowly set cup and saucer back on the table before meeting his eyes again. “I believe I shall call upon you at home this week, to see these artifacts of yours.” Ben looked a bit surprised, but nodded.<br/>“Of course, at your leisure. Is there...are you familiar with this?” Shahrzad’s eyes wandered to the glyphs again.<br/>“You were right to try Egypt,” she replied, “But these are much older.” He paused at this, confused, surprised.<br/>“Older?”<br/>“Yes.” His brow knit.<br/>“Can you read this?” For the first time, he saw something almost like doubt in Shahrzad’s green eyes.<br/>“Not aloud,” she said quietly, slowly, eyes never leaving the notebook pages. “Nor shall I. This is not quite the case I imagined you might have.” Ben felt a stillness in himself, something strange that he felt to his bones.<br/>“Shara, what is this?” Her eyes met his.<br/>“When I visit,” she said firmly. “It is time we discuss what you know about demons.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>It was nearing evening by the time they parted ways, and she held his arm as they walked, the wind tousling the loose dark curls around her face.<br/>“I’ll let your man know when I intend to be by,” she told him as they stopped beneath a street lamp, “I do hope you have some of my favorite tea stocked, or I shall have to instruct old Threeps what to get.” Ben smiled, nodding and patting her hand on his arm.<br/>“Of course. Don’t be too rough with the poor man, you know Threepio hasn’t the strongest constitution and you, Lady Blanchett, can be quite the challenge even to men of much sturdier stuff than he.” She laughed in delight at this, reaching to pat Ben’s cheek fondly.<br/>“Oh, you are always such a treat, my darling Master Kenobi,” she cooed, and as he gazed down at her he kept a polite smile on his face. As oft as he’d met with her, as much time as he had spent in her presence, he had never quite grown accustomed to this. <em>What a sweet little thing you are,</em> her eyes said, <em>a pleasant amusement for me.</em> Her gloved hand lingered on his beard as she studied his face, however. “Always so charming,” she gave a light shake of her head, smiling, “And don’t attribute what I like so much about you to Jinn, either.” Her thumb stroked his cheek fondly, “We must all be creatures of our own creation, Master Kenobi,” she told him, finally releasing him, “Or else we are nothing at all.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>It was on his way home again, as the lamps were being lit and the cold in the air was becoming a bit too bitter, that he saw her.<br/>Rather, she saw him—and gasped as they nearly walked right past each other.<br/>“Mr. Kenobi!” Ben froze on the sidewalk, and turned to see Padmé in the low streetlight, holding the arm of a tall, dark-haired gentleman. He felt a weight in his chest, looking at them, but she just smiled and drifted closer to him, her companion following.<br/>“Miss Amidala,” he managed, finding it harder than he ought to have to smile at her this way. She gave him a chastising smile.<br/>“Padmé,” she corrected him, “But it’s been such a long time I suppose I can excuse it.” Her eyes roamed over his face and she bit her lip just so, and he tried desperately to ignore the fact he swore he saw color rise to her pretty cheeks. “You look quite well,” she said softly, “Sabé told me you’d returned home again, and I—“<br/>“Please, Miss Amidala,” he offered quickly, “I shouldn’t like to keep you,” he offered her companion a polite nod. “When you’ve time, talk to my man Threepio and you and the ladies will have to visit for tea.” Padmé looked somewhat chastened, but her smile stayed in place and she nodded.<br/>“Of course.” She glanced up and then back at Ben, “Ah, this is Mr. Rush Clovis. Rush, this is my good friend Mr. Ben Kenobi,” she introduced him, and he offered Ben a handshake and a smile.<br/>“Good to meet you,” he nodded, and Ben shook his hand amiably.<br/>“And you.” He gave a little tip of his hat, and smiled at them both. “Please, don’t let me keep you.”<br/>“Not at all—“ she gasped suddenly, and looked very pleased. “Oh! Mr. Kenobi,” she looked all at once elated, “Why don’t you come to the theatre with us!” Ben blinked.<br/>“The theatre?”<br/>“Yes! Thursday evening, eight o’clock. We can make an evening of it, it would be perfect to catch up!”</p>
<p>There was something in him that wanted to decline, but he saw the look in Padmé’s pretty brown eyes and the smile on her face, and he nodded.<br/>“That sounds lovely,” he agreed, “Thursday evening it is, then.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>That night, he fell asleep with her voice in his ears and the sight of her smile fresh in his mind’s eye.<br/>This was a kind of torment, he thought, it must be. Worse still that she seemed happy with this man Clovis—and he reprimanded himself mentally for imagining the expressions on her face as she’d looked at him, the tone he thought he’d heard when she said his name.<br/>This was what he’d hoped to escape. She deserved a better, normal life; and that was not something he could give her, he knew.<br/><br/></p>
<p>•</p>
<p><br/>In his bedroom late into the evening, Anakin stood at his mirror in near total darkness, studying the flickering reflection there in silence. It was dark, save for a single candleholder with three small, barely burning candles nearby, and in the dim light he carefully began to undress, out of his jacket and vest, tie done away with and suspenders cast aside until he could slowly tilt his head, and lift the collar of his shirt away from his neck and shoulder.<br/>There was gauze bandaging—light, still looking clean if somewhat haphazardly applied. A light hand ran fingertips over the bandaging, and he straightened his neck some, regarding his own reflection again. In the near dark, his eyes were like fire—orange gold, and burning.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>